By Sandy Jeffs
The poems during this assortment are an evocative documentation of the harrowing stories of a kid dwelling in a antagonistic and unsatisfied domestic. The reader is proven the soreness, the bitterness and the combined feelings that accompany the reviews of turning out to be up in a relations torn aside via family violence and alcoholism. reminiscence is confirmed by way of remembering what one doesn't are looking to bear in mind.
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I never did know you yet I wanted to know you so badly that the ache of my heart cuts a savage swathe. If your ashes could speak dare I ask the question? If you stood before me as the man and woman you once were could you tell me who you are? I ask too much. 23 My regret should not disturb your slumber even if it keeps me from mine. Indeed, I spend your post-death years awash with flighty feelings I can barely contain and lament what we did not share. 24 The Mourning After The morning’s calm suddenly howled with the crashing sounds of the pots being thrown about the cupboards— he was up.
Every Friday night we await the mauling praying for intercession that never comes. Every Friday night your savage moods shroud us in dread steal us of joy. Every Friday night in she walks senses numbed to endure your devouring of flesh. Every Friday night we visit the shades below as you cut our hearts into pieces tossing the bleeding bits to your cur that guards the gate— every inexorable Friday night. 44 Loony Bin Mad Scene Come and see them you said come and see the loonies in the loony bin where you blow your sax and make sweet music amidst this Hogarthian gathering of misfits and freaks.
We, together, picked the clothes-clad Hills Hoist naked. We, united, carried in the bundles. We, consolidated by a purpose, were no longer pretending. I looked adoringly at Ossie and Harriet engaged in their task, the rain having washed away their sneering hostility. 27 I spied my siblings’ faces showing a hint of relief. The misery seemed far away and all this through a simple thing the thing to which I always looked forward: the days when the Nelsons would bring in the washing. 28 Christmas Eve As I lay on the couch letting loose my imaginings I saw others bursting with joy eager for the morning’s unwrapping and fun.
Blood Relations by Sandy Jeffs